"You're right Jack Spratt —Inside this skull,It's definitely marmalade.And there's a slice of toast,A cup of tea,A great big waffle and a sausage sarny."

"Great!" said Jack,"I'll have this toast and these two slices of bread.You can have the waffle and the sausageAnd we'll leave the cup of tea in the head —

Well,It'll keep it warm, won't it?"

So they tucked in,Using the legs as a knife and forkAnd saving the tail for a spoon.It felt like a bit of a partySo they blew the body up like a balloon.

"This balloon's going down,"Said Jack with a frown."There must be a hole in it."

So he got his bike pumpAnd stuck it up the rumpAnd pumped for a whole minute.

"It's coming out the other end now," said his wife."I'll get the vacuum cleaner.If you keep pumping I can stick it on blowand we'll get the bugger up between us."

Well,the cat exploded didn't it?

It's fur flew off out of the windowLike Bela Lugosi's pet bat.The rest of it splatted on the ceiling and wallsLike the pattern on a sofa from Habitat.

But far from being angryThe Spratts were overjoyed."I won't have to decorate now," said Jack."And look!This tooth has popped that massive boil on me back."

"That's great!" said his wife,"And we can use this eyeballTo prop up the leg on the kitchen table.I don't know what's attached to itBut you can keep your fags in it.And won't this make a lovely little purse?"

"No it won't," said Jack."It's burst."

They tidied up their bits and bobsAnd put them all away —Some in tins marked 'Sunday Best',The rest 'Membraney Day'.And when the house was spick and spanThey listened to the end of Terry WoganWith the cold cup of teaThey'd rescued from its unfortunate host moggy.